


Be My Girl, I'll Be Your Man

by astrovevo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrovevo/pseuds/astrovevo
Summary: The night before Melissa and Argent's wedding, Stiles relieves Lydia of her stress.The events leading up to and Argent and Mama McCall’s wedding. (Title from Perfect by Ed Sheeran.)Genre: Smut, Romance, Fluff, Slice of Life





	

**Author's Note:**

> Notes for visual help: Stiles’s hair is what Dyl’s hair looks like in Deepwater Horizon (film). Lydia’s hair is what Holland’s looked like at the Paleyfest 2015.

Notes for visual help: Stiles’s hair is what Dyl’s hair looks like in Deepwater Horizon (film). Lydia’s hair is what Holland’s looked like at the Paleyfest 2015. 

“We’re done with the fitting of the suits, everything’s perfect. Need us for anything else?” Stiles Stilinski asks, walking into the McCall living room with Scott McCall behind him. 

Lydia Martin is standing, leaning her lower half against the backrest of the couch, her hands crossed over her chest, looking impatient. At the sound of her boyfriend’s (of five years) voice, her head snaps to look over her shoulder. 

The two men in their early twenties are holding a suit each in their hands, far above the ground to make sure they do not piss of their strawberry blonde. Lydia sighs, uncrossing her legs allowing the ends of her black bootcut, high-waisted pants roll down her ankle to cover the tops of her black, open-toe boot heels. With her hands still crossed over her chest, she cracks a short-lived, tired smile at the boys. 

They’re all trying on their outfits, one last time, during the night before the wedding day of Melissa and Argent. 

The next second, she has become serious, asking, “Wait, Stiles, did you try on the pants?” 

Stiles nods, as Scott takes his suit and Stiles’s and disappears for a few seconds to set them onto the the dining table. When he reappears, he sees Lydia raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend. Stiles lifts a hand, a gesture that reads ‘what?’, whilst the other is tucked into his pocket. “I did!” Stiles defends himself. Lydia continues to stare at them. After a few seconds, Stiles proves, “They end right at my angles, no further.” 

“Good,” Lydia says, immediately after his last word, before turning around because she heard Malia coming back. 

“Do I have to try this on?” Malia groans, walking out of the laundry room, with a floor length, blush pink, chiffon dress, which has a sweetheart neckline and off-shoulder straps. Somehow, they had been designed to twist before spreading out of their arms. It is an eccentric design that Lydia adores. 

Malia stops a metre away from Lydia, cocking her hip out to the side in her denim skirt. 

“Yes, Malia,” Lydia drags out, sighing. Malia has listed tens of reasons as to why she shouldn’t try this dress. 

Holding it high above her head, so it doesn’t get messed up by the dirt on the floor, Malia reasons, “What if I rip it?” 

“Mal, you won’t rip it,” Lydia assures. Scott and Stiles, on the other hand, cover their mouths to stop themselves from almost laughing at this situation. 

“You don’t know that,” Malia objects, shrugging her shoulders, nonchalantly. “I have zero control.” Lydia rolls her eyes at the werecoyote. “I’m wearing thigh-high boots, Lydia, they take me forever to get on!”   
“Sweetie, you can try whatever you want, but you are so wearing that dress, right now. And I mean now,” Lydia sternly instructs. Stiles chuckles quietly, hoping Lydia doesn’t hear him, as he walks to sit on the back rest of the couch, behind her. 

Sitting onto the edge, he wraps a hand around Lydia’s waist, pulling her to stand in the space between his legs. His hand around her waist strokes her skin through the white, off-shoulder floral top, with straps, she’s wearing. Malia begins to reason once more, as Stiles lifts his free hand to brush her hair, that she has curled every section of for today, out of the way. 

Sighing, content, Stiles pulls her closer, so that her back is pressed against his chest. He adores her height especially when he does things like that. Blessed with her perfect height for this, Stiles wraps both hands around her waist, before he rests his chin on her shoulder, just as Lydia begins to threaten Malia into wearing the dress. 

He feels Lydia’s tense frame relax under his touch. It’s the little moments like this that Stiles and Lydia appreciate . . just being there. 

“Mal, just go wear it,” Stiles sighs, interrupting Lydia. 

“Nope!” Malia shrugs, stubborn. 

“Scott, tell her, will you?” Lydia asks, leaning over to get a look at Scott. 

“Lia. . try it on and we’ll be done with this,” Scott finally speaks up. 

Malia looks at him for the longest time, before huffing and saying, “Fine, I’ll try it on.” 

Stiles and Lydia, shocked, whip their head to look at Scott, when Malia begins to strip. 

“What?” Scott asks, hesitantly. The couple have their jaws dropped and eyes wide. 

“That’s all it took?” Stiles almost yells. 

“Perks of being Malia Tate’s boyfriend, I guess,” Scott shrugs. 

Of course, Malia and Scott were going to end up together. All it took them were a couple of holiday in the first year of their university life to get together. Although it’s his ex-girlfriend, Stiles does not find it weird. The happiness of his best friends is all that matters to him. 

“Okay, if anything is wrong right now,” Malia says, grabbing Scott and Lydia’s attention. Stiles looks at his feet, to give them privacy. Now that she’s Scott’s girlfriend, Stiles isn’t going to just watch her strip to her underwear. “How’re we meant to get it fixed if the wedding is tomorrow?” 

Lydia shrugs, her arms still crossed over her chest. “It won’t be anything major, so I’ll be able to fix it.” 

Scott walks to Malia, knowing that she’ll need help with this part of putting on the dress. “My hair isn’t good-looking, what am I supposed to do with it?” 

“Mal, your hair is beautiful. I’m going to wave them for you and you know how to do your make-up really well,” Lydia informs. Malia finally’s gotten into the dress and she looks at everyone, including Stiles (who’s looked up now), in expectation of a reply. 

“So?” 

“You look gorgeous,” Scott compliments, kissing her cheek before walking back to get a proper look at his girlfriend. Lydia nods, grinning, and Stiles grins at her, offering her a thumbs up with both hands, before they reach to wrap around Lydia once more. 

The dress flows waist down, and the sweetheart neckline rests perfectly on her. It’s exactly how Lydia imagined it to be. “Okay, we’re done here! I’m going to make tea,” Lydia mumbles, getting off Stiles’s lap and going to walk to the kitchen. However, she stops when she realises something. With wide, stern eyes, she points at her boyfriend, commanding, “Tomorrow – that scruff. Off.” 

“Why?” Stiles asks, hands put before him in a ‘what?’ motion. 

“You too, McCall. Off,” Lydia adds, pointing at her best friend, and ignoring her boyfriend’s objections. 

“Lyds!” Stiles drags out, following his girlfriend out. 

Scott shrugs, walking to his girlfriend to help her out of the dress. 

In the kitchen, Lydia is standing next to the kitchen island, elbows on it and her head resting in her hands. Stiles walks in, but when he sees her, his thoughts falter. She’s stressed. 

Silently, he walks to her, wrapping an arms around the side of her waist, before pressing a kiss to her head. “Hey,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, as Lydia sighs in relief, before turning to face him. She wraps her arms around his waist in return, holding him close. 

Her cheek is pressed against the fabric of his black t-shirt, under his thin dark blue bomber coat. Her wraps his arms around her shoulder, holding her tight. He drops a kiss against her head, before mumbling, “Relax, babe.” Lydia pulls back, nodding her head, before reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, to hug him. She plays with the hair at his nape .. in general, Stiles’s hair has grown out a bit, making there be more hair, and a little longer, at the nape. Lydia runs her fingers through it, before burying her head against his shoulder. 

Stiles knows that today has just been stressful . . she had research she needed to complete, and, just like Malia, she is committed to making Melissa and Argent’s wedding perfect. But Stiles knows that she’s also mourning. 

“I also would give anything for her to be here, Lydia,” Stiles whispers, rubbing her back. 

Stiles knows that both Scott and Lydia are hurting more than ever. . they all wish, even Malia, that Allison could be here with them. 

“She’s happy,” Lydia nods, to herself, attempting to provide self comfort. 

“And she’s very proud and happy for us, too,” a new voice pitches in. 

Stiles and Lydia pull away from each other, to look at Scott. Scott has a distant look in his eyes, nonetheless, he pulls a sad smile. Awing, Stiles wraps an arm around his best friend, to pull him into the hug with his girlfriend, as well. 

“Allison’s very happy for us,” Stiles states, hugging his loved ones close to him. Resting his cheek against the top of Lydia’s head, Stiles thinks to himself, ‘She’s very proud of us.’ 

A while later, when they’ve wiped away Scott’s tears, they all go back to the living room, to meet Malia, who smiles brightly at them, knowing that they all were missing Allison, just now. She respects the fact that the three of them just need to talk amongst themselves to heal. 

A while later, they’re all watching a rerun episode of The Office with Scott and Stiles yelling at the television every time Toby appears on the screen. “No. NO! NO! Go away!” Sti;es yells, flailing his hands at the screen, hoping Toby Flenderson will just vanish. When the scene changes, Stile sighs, “That guy irritates me so much.” 

A while later, they’re all saying their goodbyes. Malia is staying over at Scott’s for the night, and Lydia, as always, is going to be at the Stilinski’s. “Bye, guys. Be up at six!” Lydia finally bids goodbye, whilst walking to her car. Stiles hasn’t bought a new car and finds it pointless because he’s at George Washington most of the year, anyway. If he does need a ride, Noah is more than happy to lend his son his vehicle. 

“You have zero good music,” Stiles mumbles, rummaging through the glove compartmnet for the various CDs. The CDs and mixtapes shuffle against each other, creating noise, so Lydia’s hand shoots out and grabs onto Stiles’s. “Stop it,” she mumbles, moving his hand away from the glove compartment.

Sneakily, she pulls her hand back, with his in hers, and drops his hand onto her tigh. “Just hook up your phone to the AUX wire, will you?” she suggest, pretending as if she is concentrated in taking the right turn. 

Stiles’s gaze drops down to her thigh, before he looks at her. “I know you’re not okay, Lydia. And I want you to know that it’s alright. Before being a banshee, you’re human,” Stiles sweetly whispers, leaning his head against the headrest. Lydia gazes at him quickly. When she looks back at the road, a smile covers her face. With just his caring words, he has managed to make her feel a thousand times better, already. 

When they pull up to the Stilinski household, they waste no time in getting out of the car – that’s because they’re both thinking about the same thing. By the time they get to the door – very well aware the Sheriff Stilinski isn’t going to be back home until tomorrow – Lydia’s hands have slipped themselves under Stiles’s shirt, feeling the planes of his toned abdomen under her cool touch. Stiles hisses as he pulls the key of the successfully unlocked door lock. 

Not being able to control himself anymore, Stiles turns around and crashes his lips against Lydia’s, then pulls her closer by her waist. Their hips ground against each others, with Stiles moaning as he twists his hand behind his back to push open the door. 

They stumble into the dark living room. Stiles cups her cheeks, as he tries to pull away but Lydia isn’t giving him time and space – she doesn’t want to think about the sad things, right now. Right now, she wants to think about how incredible Stiles makes her feel. She wants her heart to thump thinking of how he makes her shudder and her stomach flip, as well as him comforting her and pulling her back because he’s her emotional tether. 

Moaning in pleasure, Stiles pulls away a little. His breath is heavy as he feverishly whispers against her lips, “No clothes strewn here. Won’t have time to clean up, tomorrow.” Lydia grins, before he presses his smile against hers. Lydia’s hands begin to push down his bomber jacket, but Stiles brings her to a halt when he reaches the stairwell and picks her up, by gripping her ass. 

His fingers press tightly against the skin there, making Lydia kiss him harder and grip his hair, fisting it with a pleasurable force. Stiles doesn’t hesitate to press her up against the wall to kiss her with great intensity. There are shivers running through them that do not seem to stop, and, quite frankly, they do not want them to stop. 

Taking this opportunity of their cores being close, Lydia grinds onto his cock, making Stiles quickly harden under her. “I swear to fucking god, babe,” Stiles mutters out, before he latches his mouth onto the exposed skin of her neck. 

Holding her against the wall with his lower half and one hand grabbing her ass-cheek, Stiles’s right hands disappears under her floral, almost see-through top. It only made it easier for him, because he didn’t need to worry about getting past a cami. Stiles grabs her breast, holding it in his palm. Urgently, his forefinger and thumb come to twist and flick her over the white bralette. 

Lydia’s heels dig into Stiles’s ass as she clutches him tight, but he does not mind it a single bit. Quite opposingly, it encourages him more. “No clothes off until the room,” Lydia reminds, as Stiles begins to knead her breast. Groaning, Stiles continues his journey. 

When they open the door to his bedroom, memories come crashing to them. The first time they ever made love was in Stiles’s room. . two days after the Wild Hunt had been destroyed. 

Both of them remembers that night vividly. They remembers the caress of their soft fingers and the quiet whispers made. They remembers the shyness in their touch and nervousness growing in the pits of their stomach. 

Tonight, however, is completely different. Replacing the soft fingers are the touches of hot hands covering all the planes of one’s body and the shyness is replaced by a burning, long-lasting passion. Their nervousness has disappeared, as well as the whispers. 

Stiles Stilinski is going to make Lydia Martin scream. 

Closing his bedroom door to allow some more intimacy to come between them, Stiles sets Lydia’s feet on the ground. 

However, that strawberry blonde isn’t stopping. Instead of pulling back and leading him to the bed, she kisses him with great passion and love, pulling him over her as they stand. 

Stiles quickly manages to free Lydia of her top and then unbuttons her pants. He grabs the side of her neck and pushes her gently away to break their kiss. 

Her green eyes that usually have a soft glow now shine a dark, rich rainforest green. Her nude pink lipstick has transferred itself onto Stiles’s lips, making her looking even more delicious than before. Her curls blanket her in sexiness, as they give her a dominant vibe. 

As she stands there, her curls (that took her a long time to make) frame her face and Stiles admires the way her eyeliner applied to her upper and lower eyelids make her orbs pop out in the most desirable manner. He looks at her with clouded eyes and parted lips. 

Slowly, Stiles sinks to his knees, allowing the pressure to build up intensely within his girlfriend. Stiles begins to press kisses from her stomach as he descends. Once he reaches her hips, his fingers painstakingly slowly curls themselves into the waistband of her bootcut pants. He hearts her breath hitch and he smirks. Cautiously, he brings down her pants to her knees before stopping to kiss her inner thighs. Lydia throws her head back as she loudly gasps into the air. She can no longer take his teasing. 

Lydia pushes down the sleeves of his thin jacket, leaving him clad in a black t-shirt and jeans. “Can’t believe you still wear those Originals,” Lydia groans out, referring to his green, Adidas Originals shoes, just as Stiles begins to suckle on her skin as he frees her from her pants. Her hands run through his hair, hoping to find some source of stability, but the he begins to toy with her panties and she’s a goner.

A sudden rush of passion washing over her makes Lydia grabs Stiles by the shoulders and pull him up. She curls a hand around the back of his head and pulls her to him. She kisses him with ferocity. Not wasting more time, whilst they’re making out, Lydia turns them so she can push Stiles onto the bed. 

Stiles falls with a thump. When he opens his eyes to look at her, she’s standing at the edge of the bed, between his parted legs (that dangle over the edge to sit on the ground), in her underwear with her heels still on. 

Stiles admires her beauty, which makes him not breath for a few seconds. She looks delicate yet a warrior. Lydia’s beauty captivates him and sends him into a world where it’s only him and her. There aren’t any supernatural occurrences or stress. 

He snaps out of it when Lydia leans down and unbuckles his belt, swiftly. Sinking to her knees, she unbuttons his jeans and hastily takes them off. Then, with a a wave of elegance in her movements, she crawls onto the bed, over him. Slowly, teasingly, she lifts a leg to put on the other side of his torso, so she can straddle him. Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, she doesn’t waste more than a second to take it off him, exposing his toned abs and dusted moles across his skin. At a leisurely pace, she grinds her core against him, making Stiles squirm and dig his fingers into her hips. 

Once their breaths have quickened, Lydia’s hand grabs the back of his head and she leans down. She increases her pace, letting the fabric between them provide a pleasing friction, relieving them momentarily of the immense sexual tension built between them. For a moment, Stiles’s dick rubs perfectly against a spot at Lydia’s core, making her throw her head back, arch and drag a moan out. When she looks back down, her curls form curtains at the sides of her face, making her look more sensual in the dim lighting, combined with the moon’s own shine. Her breath is heavy and isn’t going to even out any time soon. 

Lydia, who is hungry for her long-term boyfriend, begins to wave down his body, to the opening of until her mouth is right at his crotch. She smirks, sparing a glance at Stiles who is clutching the sheets tightly as if his life depended on them. His eyes are closed because he feels Lydia’s hot breath at his most sensitive region. 

“Stiles,” Lydia whispers, seductively. Taking her time, Lydia pulls down his briefs, releasing his cock out of his cage. Tentatively, Lydia peppers kisses down his sensitive part, making it twitch and jump in response. Satisfied with his reactions, Lydia strokes his entire length with his tongue, before she closes her mouth around him at the top. 

Stiles immediately cries out and his hand comes to bury itself in her hair. He grips her hair, gathering all his willpower to not push her head down so she can deepthroat him. However, that problem doesn’t last for long. 

After a while, when Stiles insists he’d rather come in her – which, from his mouth, turned Lydia on even more – he flipped her onto the bed with him on top, now. 

“Don’t think you’re the only tease around here, Martin,” Stiles whispers quickly, his smirk lightly resting against her parted lips. His tongue quickly shoots out to flick hers. His hand descends down her body, stopping on top of her panties, so he can stroke her through the flimsy fabric. His middle finger rubs against her clit making Lydia moan out and jerks her hips to get more contact. However, holds her down by his legs and hips, making Lydia squirm and wiggle under him, 

“Shh,” he mumbles. Stiles goes further down with his mouth, until his lips wrap around her pussy through her underwear. Lydia claws at his back with her clipped fingernails, trying to relax under his touch. 

Stiles, for good measure, flicks her covered clit with the tip of his tongue, making her moan out loudly so that the neighbours can hear her. “Oh my fuck! Stiles!” Lydia heavily pants, propping herself onto her elbows so she can get a better look at him. 

Stiles quickly rips her lace panties off of her. Then, he buries his face between her legs. The texture of his scruff scratches Lydia in the most exciting, satisfying and pleasing way possible. His stubble definitely makes this even more orgasmic than it is meant to be. 

Stiles’s tongue laps at her pussy, with his lips frequently wrapping around her clit to suck on it. He licks down her opening and then back up. “Oh my fuck, Stiles! YES! Right fucking there, baby!” Lydia lifts takes one of his hands and puts it on her breast. Then, with her hand on top of his, she makes him squeeze the swell making Stiles hum in approval. The vibrations combined with his beard stroking her clit tips Lydia off the edge making her scream out as a elongated orgasm rushes through her. 

Being the neat person he is, Stiles drinks all her juices, his tongue not stopping his handiwork. Lydia’s left shuddering under his touch. Her nub is too sensitive to hand his tongue any longer. So, being Lydia, she flips him over, before wrapping a hand around his cock. Then, without any warning, she sinks onto him. 

“Fuck, baby!” Stiles moans out, throwing his head back onto the pillow as his hands grips at her waist, forming bruises. He grabs hold of her hips, increasing her pace to help her ride him. 

Lydia cocks her head to the side, making her curls fly over to the other side of her face, as she bites onto her lower lip, her eyes concentrated on where her pussy devours his cock. “Fuck me, Stiles,” Lydia moans out, leaning down and slamming her lips against his. Their tongues battle each other for dominance, with Lydia winning.   
Stiles settles for reaching his hand between them and rubbing her clit. “Oh, oh, argh! Stiles, oh my god, baby!” Lydia pants, going faster. 

And then they both come undone. 

Lydia gets off him, before slumping down onto the space next to him. To satisfy herself, Lydia swings a leg over him, so her pussy can still be pressed against him. 

“Thanks, honey,” Lydia whispers, laying on her stomach. She leans over and kisses his cheek for good measure. 

“Now lets get some sleep,” Stiles mumbles out, holding her close to him. Soon, they drift off into a well deserved sleep. 

 

The following morning, at around four o’clock, Lydia is walking through the venue, in search of the older members of Scott’s pack. 

Melissa and Argen have decided that holding their wedding in a green area, also known as a big grassland they managed to find, was a fitting idea. Everything is decorated with fairy lights and flowers, bringing a great spring vibe to the scene. 

Lydia ventures around, in her bridesmaid dress, calm and collected after how kindly Stiles treated her last night. 

This morning, she hadn’t gotten to see her boyfriend as he left early to the McCall home to get changed. She hasn’t seen him since then and the marriage begins in two hours. There’s still a few things she wants to discuss, and she’s still reeling from last night. 

Finally, she spots Malia, Scott and Stiles at the entrance of the venue, with the photographer taking photos of them. Malia’s dressed with her eyes bold and lips stained with a soft pink. Her hair has been perfectly waved and ontop of her head rests a flower crown that Melissa insists the bridesmaids (which is Malia and Lydia and four other of Melissa’s realtives) wear for the occasion. 

When Lydia comes over, Scott, Stiles and Malia are taking a photo where they’re all smiling with Malia’s hands wrapped around their torsos. Next, to have fun, they takes a photo with Malia’s arms slung over their shoulders, as she pulls them close to her and they try and act serious. 

Lydia parts her lips as she admires Stiles in the dark blue, navy suit and white crisp shirt, paired with black shoes and a black tie. What makes her narrow her eyes is that, unlike Scott, Stiles hasn’t shaved and his small beard still rests on his face. But the anger disappears in a second because Lydia realises that he looks hot like this.  
“Lydia! Join!” Malia commands, once she sees the banshee. Lydia laughs, coming in, with her hair bouncing in its style of the fronts of her hair pinned back in a braided style. 

They take a couple more photographs before they’re called to attend to other things. 

 

A few hours later, the marriage has begun and Melissa, somehow, has rested nerves and a confident smile. With Malia as the maid of honour, mostly because Melissa has grown to treat her as her daughter and Malia has been dating her son for over four years now. 

As for Stiles, he became the one to give Melissa away. 

Over the course of twenty years, ever since Stiles and Scott became best friends at the age of three and then when Claudia died, Melissa has become the motherly figure in Stiles’s life. She takes care of him and makes sure he stays on track. She treats him as if he is her son. . and maybe Stiles has become. Therefore, with Scott as Argent’s best man, which seemed odd at first, Stiles accepted this honorary role. 

Lydia smiles when she sees Stiles walking Melissa down the aisle. He has tears in his eyes, which Melissa notices, so she calms him down. And, in the middle of the path, Melissa stops and pulls him into a hug. 

“I’m going to be right here, Stiles. Shh,” Melissa whispers into Stiles’s ear, as she rubs his back while hugging his tall frame. 

Malia and Lydia ‘awe’ and Lydia begins to well up as well. They’ve all grown up. They’re no longer the teenagers running around Beacon Hills. . they’re adults, in college. 

Lydia and Malia look at Scott, who looks broken beside Argent, with tears running down his face. And Lydia predicts his next move; Scott runs down the small stage and to the family he has created. He throws himself into the hug, his arms wrapped around Stiles’s shoulder and Melissa’s. Stiles sobs, as he wraps an arm around his brother in return, crying onto his shoulder instead. 

The audience watch this precious scene unfold, all realising how much these three mean to each other. As for the pack, they become even more aware of the bond they’ve created. . the family they’ve made. Moreover, they’re reminded of the long-lasting brotherhood Scott and Stiles have. 

A few minutes later, when Scott’s hugged Stiles for a while, alone, and whispered encouraging words, the wedding continues. 

Soon, Melissa and Argent have sealed their marriage with a kiss and everyone’s stood up to applaud. 

 

Stiles and Lydia are talking to one of Scott’s relatives, with Lydia’s hand wrapped around her boyfriend. They’re sat at a table, just finishing with their desert. She eyes the woman, in her twenties as well, flirt with Stiles by casually touching him and laughing obnoxiously whenever he cracked a joke. Lydia’s looking for the perfect excuse to drag him out of the situation, but so far she has no luck. 

Melissa and Argent’s first dance was over long ago and now they’ve come to the reception . .. one hour in. Lydia looks around the venue, shifting her body in her midi, fit and flare, light pink dress with straps. Her dress has small, floral detailing all over it and her hair stood out exceptionally well in it. 

She spotted Malia and Scott in the corner, talking to each other, as they swayed to the music. Malia has her arms wrapped around Scott’s neck and Scott is holding her close by the waist. Malia’s laughing at something Scott’s said, as Scott continues to talk with a grin on his face. 

Lydia’s own mouth forms a smile, as she watches her best friends fall in love, over and over again. The song changes and Lydia’s breath hitches. 

Stiles is more relaxed as he becomes more aware of the lyrics. He stops talking to Scott’s cousin and focuses on the song. His mouth forms a huge grin and then he looks at Lydia, who’s still holding onto him. 

Lydia senses his gaze and then returns it. She smiles softly, knowing that he’s thinking about the same thing. Stiles gets up and looks at his girlfriend. “Lydia, get off your cute little ass and dance with me.” 

Lydia’s heart flutters as his voice from all those years ago echoes in her mind. Her heart begins to hammer against her chest and there is joy running through her veins. She beams at him, silently giggling. She purses her lips, momentarily looking down. Lifting her head to meet his gaze again, she replies, “Interesting tactic. I’m gonna stick with yes.” 

Stiles grin becomes wider, as he offers his girlfriend his hand. Lydia takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. 

The song that plays is Perfect by Ed Sheeran. It’s the song they danced to when they both were having a terrible day and just needed each other. That night, they had the most real, deep conversation they have ever had. No secrets, no oppression. Just them. So, Stiles played this song as they danced to it in his dimly lit studio, holding each other close. . . being each other’s tether. 

[We were still kids when we fell in love.   
Not knowing what it was.   
I will not give you up, this time.   
But, Darling, just kiss me slow. Your heart is all I own. ]

Lydia has her arms around his neck and he has his around her waist. There is absolutely no distance between them. And as the song goes on, they simply look into each other’s eyes, swaying perfectly to the music. 

Lydia thinks over all the things they have accomplished and how far they have come. 

[We are still kids, but we're so in love  
Fighting against all odds  
I know we'll be alright this time]  
Darling, just hold my hand  
Be my girl, I'll be your man  
I see my future in your eyes

“Forever?” Lydia hopefully asks, looking at Stiles with love and care. 

[Darling, just hold my hand  
Be my girl, I'll be your man  
I see my future in your eyes]

Stiles’s smile falters as his expression softens up. Then, he replies and quotes the lyrics just as they play, “Forever. Be my girl, I’ll be your man.” 

Lydia’s eyes well up and she doesn’t hold herself back. Leaning up, she presses her lips against the silky, delicate ones of the love of her life’s. 

They aren’t ever going to stay away from each other. Not now, not ever.


End file.
